


Tuesday Night

by cat_77



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: It was Jace who summed everything up nicely though with a very precise and heartfelt, “Shit.”[Or the one where some misguided demons take Isabelle and her family takes offense in return.]





	Tuesday Night

“They took Isabelle.”

Three words, three vastly different reactions. 

Clary seemed confused. She stood in place, blade in hand but far from being at the ready. “Who would be dumb enough to do that?” she asked. “I mean, she’s more than capable of handling herself; are we sure this isn’t a setup? As in, one designed by her to get them alone and take them all out?”

As much as he leaned towards believing her, there was another reaction that took precedence as far as he was concerned: Alexander. Unlike Clary, he did not have any visible weapons on him. Or at least he didn’t for about a ten count. He smacked the wall and the cache opened instantly. In the blink of an eye, he was kitted out with a seraph blade, several smaller daggers, and of course his bow and quiver. Another blink, and he was already headed for the door.

It was Jace who summed everything up nicely though with a very precise and heartfelt, “Shit.”

Magnus followed Alec because, well, where he led he followed and vice versa. Actually, first he grabbed him, pricked his finger, did a simple tracking spell based on shared bloodlines, and then pointed them all in the right direction. He may personally have leant towards Clary’s belief that Isabelle could take on a horde of demons without smudging her perfect lipstick, but he also knew one did never stand between a brother and sister. Especially if that brother and sister were Alexander and Isabelle Lightwood. 

Jace was right on his parabatai’s heels as a surprise to precisely no one. The reasonably crowded workday hallways of the institute had already parted for the first running and heavily armed figure, and the others took advantage of that fact as well. Jace passed Magnus himself before they even stepped outside, and Clary was only a few steps behind and only because she paused to grab more weaponry. 

Magnus spared a brief thought for the fools that thought taking Isabelle would prove to be a bargaining chip in anything, let alone the upcoming re-negotiations of the accords, but then decided that they got what they deserved.

Apparently what they deserved was a bloodbath. Well, if demons bled instead of burst into flaming, sparkling goop. He really hoped no mundane crossed their path on this little quest as the results would be quite catastrophic and far more difficult to keep contained.

The Shadowhunters sliced and diced while Magnus cast shields and invisibility spells around them. He highly doubted any of them thought to activate the runes that would keep them hidden, just as he highly doubted they even cared if they were seen. Let the Downworlders know what they faced, he supposed. It would be their own version of a bargaining chip.

The warehouse they soon reached was appropriately spooky and abandoned, and he sensed few enough living beings inside to fear a trap. He did a quick scan for anything magical in nature, and then scanned again in an attempt to discover if the entire place was set to blow under more mundane means.

Not that such a thing would have stopped the trio in front of him. They handled the plethora of beings on the outside and stormed right on in with barely a pause. A glance to him and he confirmed the most likely place to keep dear Izzy, and then they were off again with barely a pause for breath.

They heard a scream as they approached the heavy metal doors that led to the likely containment area and it echoed far too much to clearly identify its owner. He had never heard Isabelle scream like that though, and truly hoped he never would. A wave of his hand and those doors banged open, revealing the scene within.

The scene was, well, pretty close to how Clary had called it. If he were to guess, the fools had taken Isabelle’s seraph blade from her, and she just now had gotten one back what with Clary tossing her one. It would explain the sheer chaos that laid at her feet with broken machinery and broken men and the insides of each scattered about. Currently, her whip was no longer a bracelet and was wrapped soundly around an attacker’s throat so clearly her attackers had not known about its true properties. She tugged the would-be kidnapper closer with one hand and finished slicing another man with her newfound blade, only to yank the first one backwards to meet his demise as well.

Magnus stepped back from the exploding being that was clearly less man and more demon, but Alec barreled right on ahead into it. Something twitched near his feet and it was stabbed before it could even regain conscious thought let alone think to make a move.

Heedless of the way his sister was still panting and still clearly in fight mode, Alexander pushed her hand with the now lax whip aside and swept her up into his arms. “You okay?” he eventually managed to form words enough to grunt out. 

She smacked his shoulder and he put her down, though he had yet to let go of her. That turned out to be a good thing as she teetered ever so slightly, which caused raised eyebrows and raised blades in search of something more to kill. “I broke my damned heel,” she griped in explanation of the wobble.

“We’ll get you new ones,” her brother promised, beginning to sound far more like himself again.

He finally stepped back enough to get a good look at her, the others still at the ready should any other unconscious body suddenly feel the need to twitch. A quick wave of his own hand, and Magnus made certain that the few that still lived were out for the count.

Jace nodded at him in recognition of the cloud of blue that washed over everything, and then turned to join in the family reunion. “Don’t you have enough pairs already?” he teased, but it was clear his heart wasn’t really in it. He hugged her close and then let her use him as a stand to brace against to kick off the offending items.

“But I liked these,” she pouted.

Satisfied that they were as safe as they were going to get, Magnus dared to get a look of his own. Clary had been mistaken about one thing, and that was that dear Isabelle’s makeup was no longer perfect. Either her lipstick had smeared or she had split her lip; possibly both. Her hair was also knotted in a way that spoke of a bag having been put over her head, and her usually pristine outfit was smeared with dust and things he could not identify upon first glance.

“I can repair them for you, if you would like,” he offered, absent anything else to say.

She beamed at him, so it was apparently the right choice. “Would you?” She then patted her brother on the quiver strap that crossed his chest and added, “You have the best boyfriend.”

Clary had finally joined the others and offered Izzy a hug of her own. “It’s probably for the best. There was a ton of broken glass out there so, unless you want Alec to carry you, you’re going to need something.”

Magnus set to work being an over-qualified cobbler and let the others have their moment of bickering about overprotective brothers and friends. The second he handed the finished product to her though, Isabelle wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Thank you.”

It was a sentiment echoed by her brother while he shared Jace’s earlier indignity and was used to balance against while Izzy toed her shoes back on, so Magnus counted it as a win.

They were met upon their return to the outside world with a crisp wind and a rather stern looking Luke. Magnus draped his jacket over Isabelle’s less than sensibly outfitted shoulders as no one else had thought to wear any outer layers as Shadowhunters were strange that way. Why bring things like clothing when you can just carve into your skin to prompt warmth? She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and then offered Luke an irreverent wave.

“We got a call about suspicious activity. Do I even want to know what happened?” Luke asked with a sigh.

“Probably not,” Magnus replied when no one else answered. He glanced over to where Alexander was attempting to angle his sister into better lighting to subtly assess any wounds that may or may not have been immediately apparent or admitted to. He was tempted to leave it at that, but felt obliged to add, “The Westside Brotherhood took Ms. Lightwood in hopes of holding sway over the upcoming talks.”

Luke raised his eyebrows. “I take it that did not go well for the Westside Brotherhood?” he guessed.

Magnus smirked. “What Westside Brotherhood?” he asked with an exaggerated shrug.

Luke just shook his head and looked like he could use a drink, or possibly three. “Get out of here before I have to figure out what to do with you,” he groaned. Magnus bowed slightly in acquiescence but was stopped from outright leaving by a much quieter, “But she’s okay?”

“Of course she is,” he snorted in response.

As if there was ever any doubt.


End file.
